Doomsday Redux
by JennyLD
Summary: A different Doctor, a different decision, a different future. Nine/Rose, Ten/Rose


**Disclaimer:** Doctor Who owns my soul, I own nothing.**  
Author's Note: **Thanks to the fantastic Wendymr for the beta. Written for Wiggiemomsi for winning me during the September 2009 Support Stacie Author Auction.

* * *

Somewhere in the middle of London, on an empty street, in an empty building, there is a room. Once filled with a great cacophony--screams of the dying and a loud rushing of air, like a freight train ready to crush everything and everyone in its path--it now stands quiet.

Where once there had been chaos--dust and debris, objects both large and small tossed about like a hurricane had taken up residence--now there is stillness.

The room itself exists in many places at once. In different realities. In some there's a lone figure standing next to a plain white wall, unremarkable in its construct. In others there's two, arms clutched tightly around each other, tears filling their eyes, spilling down their cheeks. Still others have three, four...twenty. Sometimes the figures are the same, sometimes they're different. Some are made of flesh and bone, others metal and wires. There's joy, sadness, anger, and sometimes, nothing. No emotion at all.

But here, now, in this reality, in this story, there's no one. The room stands empty, still; a silent memorial to the battle that, just a short while before, waged there.

* * *

"So how'd you do it?" Rose asked, bouncing in place beside the Doctor, happiness and excitement pouring off of her in waves.

He'd never seen her smile quite so brilliantly before. Never seen her quite so happy. It made his own grin spread widely across his daft old face. "Little jiggery-pokery and I can do anything, me."

"Like crossing universes?" She beamed at him, tongue poking out from between her teeth. Reaching out to intertwine her fingers with his, she gave his hand a quick squeeze.

He raised an eyebrow. "And more."

"You think you're so brilliant."

"I am that."

"But wasn't it dangerous, Doctor?" Pete spoke up from across the room, interrupting the happy reunion. Relief and trepidation both laced his voice.

The Doctor didn't even look in his direction, couldn't be bothered to tear his gaze away from Rose just yet. Reaching out to cup her cheek, he nodded once. "For you lot, yeah."

Bits of plastic hung down everywhere around them, blocking the light that came streaming in through windows looking out on a different London, a different universe. The room was dim and dusty; pieces of paper littering the floor, a desk chair tipped over on its side. Months of disuse had left their mark and it felt more like a tomb inside than the large office it'd once been.

Jackie stood beside Pete, close enough to reach out and touch him, Mickey on the other side of her. Both were watching closely the happy couple standing next to the blue police box that had, just a few minutes before, materialized out of thin air.

"You said it could destroy both universes. Am I right?"

"Could've, yeah." The Doctor felt impatience with the whole bloody conversation rising up in him. "But it didn't." Glancing up at Pete, he smiled more brilliantly than before, if that was even possible. "Genius, me."

What Pete didn't really understand, what none of them seemed to grasp with their tiny, ape-like minds, was that it was a risk he'd been willing to take. He couldn't leave Rose behind, even with her newly whole family. No more than he could abandon the TARDIS on some distant planet, continuing on without her.

As long as he had breath left in his body, he'd search the two of them out, no matter how impossible it might be.

"So that's it then?" Mickey stared at Rose intently, his question meant for her and her alone. "You're just gonna go back with him? Never see your mum again?"

"Oh, don't you start now too." Jackie glared in Mickey's direction, then Pete's. "We're all still standing here, yeah? The universe didn't go up in a puff of smoke. Be happy for that." Turning back to Mickey, she poked him in the chest. "And you, you git, stop your bellyaching. You've seen the two of them together. Do you think she'd be happy here without himself? Catching the bus for some nine-to-fiver, eating chips, watching telly?"

Everyone stared at her; Pete with brows lowered in concern, Mickey and Rose with their mouths hanging open, looking like a pair of fish freshly out of water.

Only the Doctor didn't look at her with surprise.

"What?" Jackie asked, resting her hands on her hips. "She's my daughter, isn't she? I may not like the life they lead but I want her happy. And she's not gonna be here on Earth with the rest of us humans." There was only the slightest hitch to her voice, and the Doctor found himself, for the first time ever, in complete awe of her.

It was Jackie, her strength and stubbornness, that had shaped Rose into who she was now; a beautiful young woman, on the very cusp of adulthood. A young woman who had helped him save whole planets and civilizations, putting her life at risk without hesitation on a daily basis. Someone who had reached out to others no matter how different they were from her, no matter how alien or dangerous or frightening.

A young woman who had helped open his eyes once again to the wonders of the Universe.

Never before had he given Jackie enough credit for bringing Rose up right. Not until now.

"Oh, Mum," Rose cried, dropping his hand and quickly crossing the room to wrap her arms around Jackie. The two embraced, mum and daughter, for what would certainly be the last time.

"You realize we can't come back, not even for a visit?" The Doctor met Jackie's gaze over Rose's shoulder. "I risked all of time and space once. I can't do it again. Not ever."

"I know," Jackie sniffed, then swallowed thickly, fighting back the tears blurring her eyes. "You and your fear of domestics. Not so bloody different from any other bloke, you aren't."

She was right, the domestics did scare him.

Nearly as much as the falling in love.

* * *

"Where are we then?" Rose asked, eyes lit up and sparkling in that way that they always did at the start of a new adventure.

Even now. Even after all this time.

"Dunno." The Doctor lifted a shoulder casually. "Could be anywhere really."

Making his way slowly around the console, he fiddled with knobs that didn't need fiddling with. Trailed his fingers along controls that didn't need tinkering.

"A new planet." He paused, idly pushing a button whose purpose he was no longer sure of. "A different solar system." Anticipation started to course through him and his step quickened, ending with a little bounce as he went. "There could be danger." He twisted a dial to the left. "Running for our lives." Flicking his wrist with a flourish, he flipped a switch. "Monsters that would put your worst nightmares to shame. Or..."

Pausing next to Rose, he leaned in close and whispered, "Creatures beyond your wildest imagination."

She snorted. Loudly. "Blimey, you haven't tried to be that impressive in years."

"Tried?" he squeaked, straightening up and gapping at her.

Rolling her eyes, Rose hooked her arm in his and started pulling him toward the door. "Come on, Mr. Impressive. Don't wanna miss the invasion."

"Rose Tyler," he sputtered, "I'll have you know that I am quite impressive. _Very_ impressive. So impressive, in fact, that on at least three hundred and twenty-five planets I'm known as the--wait. What?" He came to a stop halfway down the ramp. "What invasion?"

"Oh, just move, will you," she groaned, tugging on his arm as she opened the door and stepped out into blinding sunlight.

They were in the middle of an open field; grass and stone and flowers fanning out in every direction. For as far as the eye could see. And with the cloudless blue sky blanketing the land, the eye could see pretty far. Far enough to tell there were no buildings anywhere nearby save one--a quaint little cottage standing directly in front of them.

Rose eyed him suspiciously. "So no invasion?"

"Never said there was one in the first place."

"Some sorta rebellion then?

"Nope."

"Fruit-related uprising?" she asked with a giggle.

It was his turn to roll his eyes. "One! I take you to one banana war and you never let me hear the end of it."

"Nope." She popped the 'p'. Then, looking up at him, asked, "So why're we here?"

"For that." He titled his head in the direction of the cottage.

"But it's just a house, isn't it?" She peered at it curiously. "It's not like it's haunted or anything. Is it?" Her voice sounded almost hopeful. "It doesn't look haunted."

"Not haunted, no. It's..."

"What?" she prompted.

The Doctor took a deep breath, then pushed forward in a rush. "It's yours. Well. Ours. Well...yours." He paused, scratching the back of his neck. "Can't imagine me with a proper house. With carpet and cupboards and a cooker and a...a sink." He couldn't help but shudder at the thought.

Nose scrunching up in contemplation, Rose turned a confused look on him. "But why?" She started fidgeting a bit with nervous energy. "You're not leaving me here, are you?"

"No." He rushed to reassure her. "Nonononono. Definitely not. Just figured we both could use a bit of a holiday now and then. Someplace we can put our feet up, let our hair down, have a little R&R, bask in the--"

"Okay, okay, I get it, yeah," she interrupted, sounding relieved but no less confused. "But why here?"

Looking down on her expectant face, he couldn't help but smile. "Don't you recognize it?" Then it hit him. "Right. Of course not. Not a Time Lord, you." Taking a few steps forward, he flung his arms wide and started turning around in a circle, indicating the whole of the field around them, "This...is London."

"Pull the other one, why don't ya."

He stopped, mid-spin, arms dropping to his sides. "No, really. It is. Middle of London. Canary Wharf. The site of Torchwood One, to be exact. Well...an eighth of a second behind Torchwood One, but still."

"But..." She paused. "That's just..." Turning away from him, she dropped her gaze to the ground, but not before he saw a flicker of hurt in her eyes.

Moving quickly to her side, he rested a finger beneath her chin and tilted her head, pleading with her to look at him. "I know. Trust me, Rose, I know." He felt an ache growing in his hearts. "But it wasn't all bad. If it hadn't been for that room..." Strong emotions started rising up in him, lodging themselves in his throat, choking back his words. He swallowed, then tried again, "If it hadn't been for that room, we...us...you and me, we might never have been."

"Never?" She didn't look any less hurt. In fact, if anything, she looked _more_ hurt.

Probably the wrong choice of words then. "Well, maybe not never, but..." Moving his hand to cup her cheek, he tried to reassure her with just a look. "The other me, the last me...it took losing you, thinking I'd never see you again, to take that chance. Might never have taken it otherwise." He mused, "Might never have taken it if it'd been this body either."

"Sure you would've." She smiled at him tentatively, a little of the sadness disappearing from her eyes.

But the truth was he didn't know if he would have. Didn't know if he would have taken that chance; not just with loving her, but with the fabric of time itself, with the stability of two universes. If it'd been this incarnation, not his ninth that had lost her, had watched her hurtling into the void, only to end up safe and sound in the arms of her family...

He just didn't know.

"Yeah, you're right. The whole of the Dalek fleet couldn't keep me away from you if they tried." His face broke into a mile-wide grin, and if it was a little fake, felt a little forced, she didn't need to know.

Taking her hand in his, he turned towards the cottage, swinging their arms back and forth between them. "So, Rose Tyler, what do you say we check out your new home?"

Tongue sticking out from between a smile nearly as big as his, she give his hand a quick squeeze as they started down the walk. "You mean _our_ home?"

He shook his head, eyeing the cottage like it might just attack them where they stood. "But, Rose! Carpets. And windows and doors...well, the TARDIS has a door. But a proper door, mind you. Not a wimpy, can't keep the hordes of Genghis Khan out, sorry excuse for a door."

"But no mortgage." She turned around to face him, reaching behind with her free hand to turn the knob. "And I'm sure there's a nice, comfy bed inside, just waiting to be broken in."

She didn't have to tell him twice. Nor did he need any more encouragement. But she pulled him gently across the threshold anyway, closing the door behind them.

* * *

Somewhere in the middle of London, on a busy street, in a busy building, there is a room. Once the site of a great disaster--an invasion gone wrong, leaving death and destruction in its wake--it's now a landmark of change.

Where once it had been the cause of great pain and suffering--the ripping apart of families and friends--now it's a monument to love.


End file.
